Posted in Christmas, Mental health, Poetry

Poem: Not Going Mad This Christmas

Not going mad this Christmas, a slightly different Christmas poem about mental health

Written by Daphne Tore / Dean Thorpe

I’m not going mad this Christmas,

I heard the woman say

It was a rather strange thing,

I heard the other day

Some people always comment,

they say the strangest stuff

Do they even understand,

the world can be quite tough

I know she meant the presents,

to sit under her tree

But many people out there,

are just like you and me

The only difference being,

this year they will go mad

For some Christmas is happy,

for others it is sad

Christmas for them just can be,

a lonely day and night

So check on everybody,

and make sure they’re alright

http://www.deathprone.co.uk/not-going-mad-this-christmas-poem.html

Daphne Tore signature with rainbow colours
Very random poetry, by a very random poet, Daphne Tore

Posted in Mental health, Poetry

Poem: Maybe I Am Going Mad

Maybe I am going mad, a mental health poem

Written by Daphne Tore / Dean Thorpe

I think that I am going mad,

I don’t recall my name

I think I must be going mad,

I really feel insane

I really know I’m going mad,

hear voices in my brain

So maybe I am going mad,

but maybe you’re the same!

http://www.deathprone.co.uk/maybe-i-am-going-mad-poem.html

Daphne Tore signature with rainbow colours
Very random poetry, by a very random poet, Daphne Tore
Posted in Mental health, Poetry

Poem: Derailed Train Of Thought

Derailed train of thought, a mental health poem

Written by Daphne Tore / Dean Thorpe

My mind is a scary place to be,

It’s a place nobody wants to see.

I have spent most of my life in there,

Hiding from a world that doesn’t care.

My mind is a lonely place to be,

Nobody here can understand me.

The conflict of light and dark inside.

A battle from which I cannot hide,

My mind is a deadly place to be,

The voices inside want to hurt me.

They are trapped and can never escape,

So they try to poison me with hate.

My mind is a random place to be,

Voices always try to confuse me.

The quest to focus has always failed,

My train of thought has been derailed.

My mind is a noisy place to be,

A whirlwind of voices surrounds me.

Only music can block them all out,

It protects me when they scream and shout.

My mind is a dark prison for me,

No way for me to ever be free.

I don’t want to go out of my mind,

As a way back I might never find.

My mind is the only place for me,

The place I still always want to be.

A strange place that I can call my home.

Where I can sit proud upon my throne.

http://www.deathprone.co.uk/derailed-train-of-thought-poem-by-dean-thorpe.html

Daphne Tore signature with rainbow colours
Very random poetry, by a very random poet, Daphne Tore